


and I burn breathing her in

by blackkat



Series: Star Wars Smut [1]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Biting, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Marking, PWP, Teasing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “May I bite you?” Shaak whispers in his ear.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Shaak Ti
Series: Star Wars Smut [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675714
Comments: 20
Kudos: 491





	and I burn breathing her in

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: maybe shaak ti/jango marking?

“May I bite you?” Shaak whispers in his ear.

Jango is so hard it’s almost impossible to think, but some deeply-buried and otherwise neglected shred of self-preservation rears its head abruptly enough that Jango's hands freeze on Shaak's hips. He goes still, brain torn between the automatic urge to let his libido say _Sithing hells yes_ and give Shaak his throat, and the whimper of his common sense reminding him of all the stories and why it’s not actually a good idea.

“Ngh,” Jango manages to get out, and closes his eyes. A lap full of naked, beautiful Jedi Master is _not_ conducive to thinking things through, and he drags Shaak closer, hitching her up higher on his thighs. Her trembling breath is so pretty he can't stop himself from leaning in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her lek, and the way she gasps and grabs for his head is massively gratifying.

“Do I have to convince you not to kill me? _Again_?” he asks, and slides his hands up her stomach to frame her breasts, thumbs just grazing her nipples. Skims impossibly sensitive flesh with his teeth, and smirks at the way her legs clench desperately around his hips as she moans.

The fingers in his hair pull harder, and Shaak drags his mouth to her other lek, holds him there as he mouths gently at it. She squirms, and Jango works a hand down between them, skimming her cunt with two fingers. The sound she makes is a _growl_ , and with a hard shove she topples him backwards to the mattress, pins him there with a hand over his throat and a look in her eyes that makes Jango bite back a groan.

“Kill you?” Shaak asks, almost a croon, and smiles wickedly as she strokes her fingers lightly through his hair. “I don’t think I need to go that far. I have other uses for you right now, no matter what a pretty trophy you would be.”

Deliberately, Jango slides two fingers into the wet heat of her, watches the way she shivers all over, eyes fluttering closed. “You want to bite me,” he tells her, and runs his hand up her lek, putting just enough pressure on it that he can feel Shaak react, the way her inner muscles clench down hard on his fingers. The breathy noise that escapes her makes his cock ache, and he wants to drag her down—

Lazy, amused, Shaak's eyes slide open, and she cocks her head like a big feline, staring down at Jango like he just made himself prey. “I do,” she says, and the hand on his throat tightens just faintly. Not enough to be any sort of obstruction, but enough that Jango won't forget it’s there. Shaak has slim, pretty, long-fingered hands, but there’s more strength in them than in the strongest Human, and Jango is not about to deny just how kriffing hot that is. Slow, languid, she rocks back on his fingers, and Jango obligingly presses another into her, shifting his hand so that she can grind her clit against the heel of his hand. It wrings a soft moan from her, and Jango tightens his grip on her lek until she gasps, then runs his hand down it, shifts to stroke over her stomach with long, slow touches.

The look on her face steals Jango's breath, all but murders every thought that isn't getting his cock inside her, watching her come undone above him. But—

“Aren’t Togruta venomous?” he asks, drives his fingers into her hard and wrenches a cry from her as she trembles around him. “You bite me, sweetheart, and I'm going to have more problems than just blue balls.”

Shaak's moan breaks into trembling laughter, ragged and breathy. She reaches down, and Jango curses as she gets a hand on his cock, pulls at it with clever fingers and then squeezes tight right beneath the head. With a moan, he lets his head fall back, eyes slamming shut as Shaak explores him, and tries his hardest not to buck up into her grip. The feeling of warm lips skimming his throat doesn’t help at all, and the flick of her tongue over his skin make heat skitter claw-sharp down his spine.

“Don’t you know,” Shaak breathes against his skin like a kiss, making him shiver, “not to believe everything you hear, Jango?”

Jango's desperate need to fuck her crashes headlong into disbelief, skids over incomprehension, and tumbles sideways into sheer _indignation_. “ _What_?” he demands.

Shaak catches his wrist, gently easing his fingers out of her, then pulls them up to her mouth. Grins at him, showing long, sharp teeth, and deliberately, tauntingly licks her own wetness off each finger. “Spacer tales,” she says, and draws his perfectly clean thumb into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it. She scrapes her teeth across the skin, just hard enough to be a tease, and draws back, that wickedness wild in her eyes. “Do you trust me enough to test it?”

She’s a kriffing _sight_ kneeling over him, and Jango can't think of a single sentient in the galaxy that would deny Shaak anything when she smiles like that. He _shouldn’t_ trust her, because she’s a kriffing _Jetii_ and he should be hunting her, not letting her pin him to his ship’s bed and _bite him_ , but—

“Fuck yes,” he says, and Shaak laughs, soft and wicked. Like a reward, she strokes his cock again, then sits up on her knees, and Jango groans at the sight of her, the sharp twists of white that curl over her breasts and hips. Her lekku fall down over her shoulders, past her waist, and Jango reaches for them, pulls one to his mouth to kiss the stripped skin, and Shaak moans. Her grip tightens on his shaft, and she guides it up, sinks back. Jango hisses, hands snapping to her hips as she sits down on his cock, impossibly tight, impossibly hot. He curses, hauls her down as he bucks up, and Shaak cries out as he drives in to the hilt. Her back arches, head falling back, and Jango sit up, wrapping his arms around her. Drags her head down, right to his throat, and demands, “Well?”

Shaak laughs against his skin, lips skimming his throat, and rocks up. Jango thrusts up to meet her as she sinks, slams back up into the perfect heat of her, and hardly feels the scrape of her teeth across his jugular. Grunts, pulling her down until she’s fully seated, and grinds up into her. Shaak shouts, then _bites_.

The burst of pain sinks right into Jango's cock, and he topples her to the mattress, slams into her as she worries at his skin. Long, fast strokes that make her wail, breathless and jerking beneath him, and Jango gets a hand down between them, presses a thumb hard against her clit. Shoves in, then pauses there, running his finger over stretched-wide muscle as Shaak jolts. Her cry is breathy and high, and she lets go of his throat, throws her head back. With a sound of satisfaction, Jango settles his full weight on top of her, feeling every inch of lean muscle and soft skin, and rocks his hips slowly, shallowly, as he teases her clit.

“Not dead yet. Guess you were telling the truth,” he says, and slides his other hand up her side, skimming the white curls of her markings, the sensitive underside of her lek. She shudders, gasping for breath, and her legs go bruisingly tight around his hips as a low whine shivers from her throat. Jango grins, on the edge of feral, and kisses the underside of her chin, the line of her jaw. Stills his hips, and when she moans in frustration he laughs raggedly. “Want something?” he teases, and ghosts a kiss over her parted lips.

He sees the flash of intent too late. In a blur, she’s shoving him back, legs still clamped around his waist. Her hands grab his wrists, shoving him back into the bed and Jango yelps as she sits down hard on his cock, then immediately starts to ride him, quick and desperate. He jerks, wanting to thrust up, want to fight back, but she kisses him hard, burns the thought right out of him as she moans, high and sharp and breathy.

Shaak ducks her head, getting her teeth in his throat again, and bites, and Jango yells, jerks. Gets a hand free, but doesn’t try to roll her. Gets his fingers on the lek at the back of her head, curls a hand under it, and _grips,_ and Shaak yowls like he just sucked her clit. She clenches down hard, and Jango curses, shoving up into her as she cries out, trembling all over. The grip of her cunt is suddenly overwhelming, and Jango thrusts desperately up into her, ratcheting up her cries. Drags her down, hitches his hips up hard, and squeezes her lek, and Shaak comes undone with a wail, collapsing over him as she trembles through her orgasm.

Most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, Jango thinks, dazed, and despite the burning need knotted in his gut, he slows his thrusts. Lets her sink down until she’s seated fully on his cock again, muscles trembling, and drags his thumb over the underside of her third lek, grazing it with his thumb even as he reaches down to tweak her clit. Shaak whimpers, shakes through another wash of orgasm, and Jango groans, rocking her on his cock as she flutters around him.

“Shit,” he breathes, and squeezes her lek again.

This time, the cry she lets out is ragged, and the way her fingers claw at his sides is entirely desperate. It’s less that she comes again and more that she never _stops_ coming, and Jango can't imagine how oversensitive she is right now. All he wants is to roll over, pin her down and fuck her until he comes too, but—

“Shh,” he breathes, and slides his hand down to stroke her back instead. “Just breathe.”

Her moan is almost a laugh, and clumsy fingers scrape over his waist, settle, grip. She pulls, and Jango goes still, not sure if—

“Backing out now?” she rasps, and Jango curses, rolls them over. Shoves her into the bed, then crushes his mouth to hers as she gasps. He tries to be gentle as he thrusts, tries not to hurt her, but she drags him in, loops her legs around his waist and kisses him back, sloppy and uncoordinated like she’s drunk on pleasure. Inside, she’s hot and trembling and _wet_ , and Jango buries his face in her shoulder, gasping open-mouthed as he fucks her, and—

A bite. High up on his throat where he _definitely_ won't be able to hide it, sharp and almost hard enough to break the skin. Jango shouts, collapsing over her, slamming into her as fiery sensation scatters down his spine, and comes with a groan.

When he comes back to himself, vision a little blurry, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through him, Shaak is stroking his hair. Her other hand is on his neck, fingers tracing the marks she left, and Jango groans into her shoulder.

“Myles is going to ask what kriffing wild animal I picked a fight with,” he says, but can't resist the urge to lift his head, pushing up on his elbows to look down at her. Shaak smiles at him in return, pleased as a loth-cat in a vat of cream, and licks her lips in much the same way.

“You can tell him it liked you,” she says lazily, and Jango presses a kiss between her breasts, against her collarbone, to her lips. She kisses him back, looping her arms around his neck, and Jango thinks of sliding down her body, eating her out while she’s still soft and wet and oversensitive—

With a gasp, Shaak pulls her mouth from his, pushes at his shoulders like she’s going to shove him down. “Yes,” she says, “yes, please—”

 _Karking_ Jetii _,_ Jango thinks loudly, and she laughs, curling her fingers around his shoulders.

“Don’t you want to see if I'm venomous anywhere else?” she teases, and Jango groans disgustedly even as he lets himself be urged down.

“Can't _believe_ that’s a spacer’s tale,” he mutters, settling between her spread legs.

Shaak chuckles, tossing a knee over his shoulder, and leans up on her elbows to smirk down at him. “I like you too much to poison you, Jango,” she reminds him, and that smirk makes Jango want to do terrible, indecent things like bring her home and introduce her to his sons and ask her to stay forever. “Your mouth is much too clever to waste.”

Jango snorts, but strokes his fingers up the inside of her thigh. “Then I better keep making myself useful,” he says, and determinedly sets to making her scream.


End file.
